


New Drivers

by steamandstardust



Series: The Future is Diesel [1]
Category: Thomas the Tank Engine & Friends, Thomas the Tank Engine - All Media Types
Genre: Other
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-22
Updated: 2019-01-22
Packaged: 2019-10-14 16:01:56
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,408
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17511632
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/steamandstardust/pseuds/steamandstardust
Summary: Two new drivers arrive at the Vicarstown Dieselworks. To general surprise, one is a woman.They bring tales of the mainland and rumours of a diesel engine who once raced the Flying Scotsman.





	New Drivers

It wasn't that the Fat Controller didn't like the Dieselworks, but he did find less reason to go there. Today, however, was different, and he arrived in Vicarstown early to speak to both engines and crew. 

"Today we welcome two new drivers to the team," he gestured sideways, "and I trust you will make them both feel welcome!"

Next to him, a man and a woman regarded their new workplace with interest. The man was of medium build, with sandy hair and a closed looking face. The woman had black hair scraped back in a tight ponytail and dark eyes that were quick and hard.

"We have had a few problems with understaffing recently," the Fat Controller continued, "made worse by the sudden loss of Diesel 10's driver of course." He shook his head. He never would understand why that man had upped and left so suddenly. 

"Dillon here will take on Diesel 10, and Harriet will be permanent relief driver, covering any shifts as required."

A murmur spread around the Dieselworks. A girl driver? Whatever next? 

"Can she handle a diesel through?" Arry's driver piped up. 

"Sure she would be better with one of your steamies?" Diesel's driver added cruelly.

 

Sir Topham Hatt adjusted his jacket out of habit.

"We live in the modern age you know," he announced, "and let me be clear; you can leave attitudes such as that at home! Harriet has come from Darlington on the mainland, a mixed manufacturing locomotive works. They build and run both diesels and steam engines and, mark my words, none of their staff would have a moment to spare for your backward thinking!"

 

The building fell quiet. A couple of the engines shifted uncomfortably, but even Diesel 10 kept his mouth shut. He wasn't all that proud of the shock he had given his driver; catching 10 in a compromising scenario with Gordon's driver AND fireman. It was no surprise he had quit. But that's another story. 

 

"Well, I have a railway to run, I will leave it to you to show our new recruits how we are really useful round here!" And with that the Fat Controller left, somewhat glad to be out of the gloom of the Dieselworks. If he was lucky, he wouldn't have to visit again for a good while. 

 

As soon as he was gone, a buzz of muttering broke out again. Dillon kept his head down, striding over to Diesel 10 with a quiet ease about him. 

"Well," he said, stopping to admire the clawed engine, "you're a fine looking machine."

10 raised an eyebrow. Usually drivers were a little nervous, if not outright upset, when they were paired with him. It took a while to get used to the harsher aspects of his personality. But here was Dillon... looking like the cat who has got the cream. 

"Hmph," Diesel 10 replied, "well-"

But with that, Dillon had hold of the door handle and was pulling it open, his easy movements betraying a core strength. Before 10 could utter another word, Dillon was already making himself comfortable in the cab. 

"Forward, aren't we?" The engine muttered under his breath. 

 

Meanwhile, Harriet was picking her way across the tracks, her eyes flashing a dare at anyone who glanced her way. Diesel couldn't resist. But, as he opened his mouth to speak, she fixed him with a disdaining glare. 

"What are you looking at, biscuit tin?" She snapped. 

He rolled backwards, despite himself, and his driver groaned.

'Arry oiled up to have a go.

"Fiesty are we?" His deep voice held an edge of menace. "Things can happen to drivers who are too feisty round here."

Harriet regarded him coldly, a smirk spreading across her face. 

"Don't mistake me, Harry, I'm not just a driver. Where I come from, we build engines like you. I know how you tick, and I know how to take you apart!"

There was a long pause. 

"It's Arry," the hazard striped engine corrected, less confidently. 

"Whatever," Harriet replied. 

She swept her eyes around the building, and almost everyone took a step or a wheel turn back.

"Looks like it's your lucky day," she rounded on Arry again, "let's learn some tracks." 

 

As Diesel 10 and Arry smoked off into the sunlight, the Dieselworks was ablaze with chatter.

"They don't make women like that on Sodor!"

"Of course they do, they'd just never work here."

"Best be careful lads, I wouldn't want to get on the wrong side of her!"

"Did you see Dillon? He didn't blink an eye at 10..."

But it was getting late, and as much as they may have wanted to stay and discuss theories on the newcomers, it was time to get some work done. The crowd parted, vowing to share more of their thoughts that evening. 

 

Dillon and Diesel 10 were clattering along the rails at an easy pace. The driver hummed nonchalantly, his hands light and sure on the controls.

"So, what are we doing then.... driver?" 10 tasted the word on his tongue, undecided as to how he felt about Dillon's company.

"What would you like to do?"

The engine was taken aback. The usual approach was to hassle him into line with sharp words, and he enjoyed resisting it. But Dillon was quiet and diligent.

"We could do with clearing some scrap," the warship replied.

"Alright, you show me the way."

Diesel 10 felt very confused indeed.

 

Harriet and Arry were having an equally surprising time.

"You drove diesels and steamies?" Arry exclaimed.

"Yes, what of it?"

"Too afraid to pick a side, were you?"

Harriet gave the controls a good hard flick, just where she knew would be sensitive. The engine winced, sparks fountaining from his wheels as they momentarily locked. He scowled angrily.

"I'm on my own side," she said.

"That hurt."

"Good."

 

Minutes passed in hostile silence. Then Harriet spoke curtly.

"So tell me what you do round here."

Arry had half a mind to ignore her, but he didn't want to be flicked again.

"You should know. Haul trucks, shunt, transport scrap, occasional passenger services. But they prefer the steamies for that."

Harriet rested one hand on her hip. His gruff tone hadn't completely disguised an undercurrent of hurt. Most diesels were like that, rough and tough on the outside, but sterling lads once you got to know them. She resolved to be a little kinder. 

"The Diesels we built mainly went out to do fast passenger services. Diesel engines are the future, you know," she said with conviction.

Arry brightened noticeably. 

 

Dillon and Diesel 10 were gathering scrap in contented silence. Dillon didn't talk too much, and 10 liked that. In a rare role reversal, it was the big yellow engine who broke the silence first.

"So what brought you to god forsaken Sodor?"

Dillon chuckled. "It's every drivers dream to work here, mate."

"Why?"

"Working with the likes of you. That's real driving! None of these simple, non sentient engines, but something with a bit of backbone!"

Diesel 10 allowed himself a small smile. That had sounded like a compliment. 

"You haven't got many... living.... engines there then?"

"Oh no, only a few. And nothing like you!" Dillon patted the inner wall of the cab affectionately.

Diesel 10 glowed with pride. 

 

Harriet and Arry had looped the island lazily, taking in a few key sights, and now they had made the turn back to the Dieselworks.

"Why do you think the steam engines get favoured here?" Harriet asked. 

Arry clenched his jaw. He wasn't that comfortable taking about it. But a patient silence invited him strongly to speak.

"Well... they're fast, and posh and they're always shiny, almost as if they've never done a real days work, some could say-"

"Diesels can be fast and posh and shiny."

"I suppose so," Arry sounded unconvinced. 

"Look, we had a special diesel back at Darlington. We built it to race the Flying Scotsman," Harriet explained. 

Arry snorted a cloud of black smoke.

"No seriously, it was painted white. It stuck out like a sore thumb. But, by god, it was fast."

"How badly did you lose?"

Harriet was a little deflated by Arry's sullen tone.

"Only just," she answered, her voice chilly again.

 

They pulled back into the Dieselworks in silence. But they were both thoughtful. 

"Well, thanks for that," Harriet said, giving the engine the briefest pat of acknowledgement. 

"Alright Arriet."

"It's Harriet."

"Whatever."


End file.
